


How Does It Feel?

by Bajillian



Series: when TWRP songs and Watsky songs are suspiciously related [1]
Category: TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band), Watsky - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Meouch is grumpy once again, baby's first 'serious' fic, inspired by Feels Alright and Feels Pretty Good, listen to those two songs in that order, talk about hopelessness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-10-30 04:30:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17821922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bajillian/pseuds/Bajillian
Summary: “What happened to this place?” Meouch asked as he looked around.“An… epidemic, of sorts,” Sung replied. “Remember how my species died of Boredom?” Meouch nodded. “This is kinda similar. An emotion. Well… lack of.”“A lack a’what?”“A lack of hope.”





	1. Feels Alright

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This fic isn't meant to make light of/be about depression or any other mental disorder. It's strictly about a fictional alien virus inspired by Watsky's song, Feels Alright.

“Doc. C’mon. There’s already four people in this ship,” Meouch said. “Do we really need to add more?”

The Groove Station was in flight through space, searching for the dying planet that Sung had heard about. All week, he had been rambling on with vague information about it, and what had happened there, and how he needed to find it, and... He couldn’t go back in time to save them all, he knew that. Time travel was tricky, and one wrong move could fuck everything up. But if he traveled to the planet’s present time, maybe he wouldn’t be too late. There was too much guilt in knowing this information and not putting in some kind of effort.

All four boys were in the cockpit, Sung being watched by the other three. He looked pretty focused on the screens in front of him. Maps with coordinates and radars, all desperately searching for this planet.

“Doc,” Meouch tried again, “I’m talkin’ to you.”

“I heard you.”

“Yeah? So why’re you bein’ so stubborn about this planet specifically? Let’s turn this ship around, and--”

“We’re not turning the ship around,” Sung said, his eyes still trained on the screens. “Plus, you didn’t seem to have an issue when I saved _you_.”

Meouch was quiet, then. All of them were. In fact, there was a good few minutes of awkward silence before Sung spoke again.

“It’s Earth.”

Sure enough, a barren-looking Earth came into view through the window. As they approached the land, they could see destroyed buildings on crumbling terrain, and no life in sight. It looked pretty post-apocalyptic. Meouch, Phobos, and even Havve stared wide-eyed at the sight before them.

“...This is… Earth?” Meouch asked, his voice barely audible.

“I DO NOT UNDERSTAND,” Havve said. “WE HAVE BEEN TO EARTH. PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE. IT NEVER LOOKED LIKE THIS.”

“Exactly.” Sung grabbed his helmet once they had landed, and he walked past the others to start making his way out of the ship. “Follow me.” The three glanced at each other, but followed Sung nonetheless. Phobos nearly stumbled over some rubble on the way out, but Havve was quick to catch him. “Watch your step. Everything’s falling apart,” Sung mumbled. He looked pretty concentrated. “Havve, scan the area for life, please.”

“What happened to this place?” Meouch asked as he looked around.

“An… epidemic, of sorts,” Sung replied. “Remember how my species died of Boredom?” Meouch nodded. “This is kinda similar. An emotion. Well… lack of.”

“A lack a’what?”

“A lack of hope.” 

Meouch furrowed his brows. “What, like, depression?”

Sung shook his head. “Not quite. It’s a different source.” He stopped walking and knelt down to grab some of the dirt on the ground. “Havve. Scan.”

Havve directed his gaze to Sung’s hand. Once the red beams scanned the dirt, the bot spoke. “DETECTED: DESPERATIO. A VIRUS THAT TARGETS HUMANS TO INFECT THEM WITH DESPAIR. ALSO KNOWN AS HOPELESSNESS.”

Sung nodded and then gestured for the boys to follow him as he started walking again. “It basically overcomes its host. Drowns out any other emotions,” he explained. “The humans don’t want to do anything once they’re infected. They can’t explain why, but it still causes them to sit alone and wither away.”

“Well, what are we s’posed to do if we find someone who’s still alive?” Meouch asked. “Can we cure them? _Is_ there a cure?”

“Maybe? It’s… kinda difficult to find a cure when you’re in a state of hopelessness,” Sung said. “But that doesn’t mean _we_ can’t try.”

“DOCTOR. THERE IS A LIFEFORM UP AHEAD INSIDE THAT CAVE.” Havve pointed to a large structure that looked like it was going to collapse in on itself any minute.

With that, the four of them made their way to the cave. Before any of them could step in, Sung stopped them and gestured for Havve to scan the floor.

“THESE FOOTPRINTS ARE ABOUT A WEEK OLD. SIX DAYS, FIVE HOURS, TO BE MORE PRECISE,” Havve said, the red beams once again scanning the dirt. “FROM A HUMAN ADULT.”

“Good work, Hogan,” Meouch said. “I thought it was from a bear or some shit.”

Sung shushed Meouch before he took only one step into the cave. His core reflected off of the walls, but it looked empty near the entrance. “Hello?” he called, his voice echoing. “Is anyone in there? We’re here to help.”

Nothing.

“Alright, well, we tried. Whaddaya say we go back home, then?” Meouch took a step back, but that earned a nudge and a disapproving head shake from Phobos. “Fine.”

The three followed behind Sung as he started walking into the cave where the footprints lead to. Each footprint after the next seemed to be less clearly defined, as if the person was dragging their feet. Eventually, they stopped when they saw a figure near one of the cave walls. 

Sung motioned for the others to stay put as he very carefully approached the person, his core light shining in their direction. The person was just kind of… sitting there, a distant look in their eyes with their knees pulled up to their chest. They looked pale, and like they hadn’t showered in a week.

“Hello?” Sung asked softly as he knelt down a good two feet from the person. He made sure to keep his movements slow. “Can you hear me?”

The person gradually looked up at Sung, but didn’t say a word.

Sung offered the person a smile. He was nervous, sure, but he tried not to show that. “I’m Doctor Sung,” he said. “We’re here to help you. Do you have a name?”

Again, the person was quiet, but managed enough energy to speak. “George.”

Red beams scanned George from top to bottom. “GEORGE WATSKY. THIRTY-TWO-YEAR-OLD MALE,” Havve said. “INFECTED WITH DESPERATIO APPROXIMATELY SIX DAYS, FIVE HOURS AGO. LEVEL OF INFECTION IS AT THIRTY-THREE PERCENT.”

George’s eyes widened a little at that, but he was too tired to ask questions. Instead, he shrugged. “I feel alright.”

Sung raised his eyebrows. “You don’t look alright,” he said. “You look… way worse than alright. You’re infected.”

“If he’s infected, then why’s he sayin’ he feels alright?” Meouch asked, arms crossed. 

“He’s still in the early stages,” Sung said. He stood up and faced the boys. “It takes about two weeks for the person to fully become infected, and a month to kill them.”

“That sounds fucking terrifying,” Meouch said. “So… how are we s’posed to get ‘im back to our ship?”

“Well, we can’t just… drag him back there. We have to convince him first,” Sung said. “Any volunteers?”

Phobos waved his hand, which made Sung raise an eyebrow, but he gestured for him to try anyway. Phobos walked over to George, and sat down in front of him with his legs criss-crossed. There was a long silence as the two stared at each other.

“Doc, Phobos doesn’t speak. How the fuck is this gonna--”

“I dunno,” George said, allegedly replying to Phobos.

…

“But m’feeling fine.”

…

“Really?”

Phobos nodded.

“Well… okay. I guess.” 

Phobos stood and gave Sung two thumbs up.

Meouch blinked. “Wh… What? How the fuck… _What??”_

“Havve, can you pick up our new friend?” Sung asked. He gave Meouch a pat on the shoulder as he started to make his way out of the cave. Havve did as he was told, and they all followed Sung back to the ship.


	2. Feels Pretty Good

“Is no one gonna tell me what the fuck just happened?” Meouch asked.

Sung closed the ship’s door behind them, and then walked over to the control panel to lift the ship into space. “Another time. We need to help George first,” he said. He pulled out a chair and rolled it over. “Havve, can you set him down here?” Carefully, Havve sat George down.

Meouch leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. “Shouldn’t we bring ‘im to the medbay?”

“What’s that going to do?”

“Can’t we give ‘im medicine or somethin’?”

Sung shook his head. “It’s an evolved virus. Medicine’s not going to help.”

Meouch rolled his eyes. “Great. So now what?”

“I have an idea that should work, logically speaking,” Sung replied. “The way the virus works is it convinces its host to isolate themself, right? Well… What if George isn’t isolated? He’s got four people right here to keep him company.”

“You’re sayin’ we just keep ‘im here until he’s cured?” Meouch asked.

“Yeah, but we’re gonna be more involved than just that. And I want to do check-in times,” Sung said. “Phobos, can you grab me an empty journal?” Phobos nodded and left to do just that. “We let George join in on what we’re doing, and at the end of the day, we see how he’s doing.” Phobos came back and handed the empty journal to Sung.

“And what’s that for?” Meouch asked, pointing to the journal.

“This is to record George’s progress. It’ll help us know if what we’re doing is working.” Sung opened the journal to the first page, and began writing down immediate observations.

George, who had just been zoned out for most of the time, was still looking pale. Even his eyes were looking more gray than blue. He was practically melting into the chair and barely moved at all.

Once Sung had written down his observations, he handed the journal to Havve, who scanned George once again to write down the status of the virus itself. Sung took the journal back and knelt down beside the chair.

“George?” Sung tried. “It’s check-in time, okay? How do you feel?”

Silence.

“...George?” Sung reached a hand up to touch George’s shoulder, but pulled back at the look on his face.

George’s irises had faded to a white, and his lifeless expression now held a devilish smile. He stood from the chair, which made the boys step back, and looked straight into Sung’s visor. “I’d be real dumb if I seemed super,” he said, his voice multiplying into different pitches to sound almost demonic. 

“Doc, what’s he doin’?”

“It’s not him, it’s the virus,” Sung replied, studying George carefully. “It’s trying to scare us away to isolate him again.”

George turned to Meouch now. “It’s check-in time,” he mocked. _“How do you feel?”_

Meouch snarled. “That’s fucked up, man!” He shoved George, who reached out to grab Meouch’s arm. “Get offa me!”

“Wait, Meouch, let him grab your arm,” Sung said.

“What?!”

“The virus is trying to get you away, but George is fighting back. There’s still some hope in him.”

“Listen, I didn’t sign up for this, alright? You’re the one who did all this research to save ‘im, going on all week about this bullshit. How ‘bout you let ‘im grab _your_ arm?” 

Sung shook his head. “And _you’re_ the one who’s been resisting helping George out,” he said. “The virus can sense that. It’s using that fact to help get back that isolation. You’ve got to be on George’s side.”

Meouch took a quick glance at George, who was still gripping his arm with a devious look on his face. “I dunno, Doc. What if, like… Is it contagious? Could I get it?”

Sung shook his head again. “It’s a human virus. It’s strong, but still too weak compared to your species. Just trust me on this.”

Meouch sighed. “...Alright. But if you’re wrong, I’m throwin’ you outta the ship.” He looked at George once again and spoke with a more gentle tone. “Uh… Hey there, bud. It’ll be alright. You’ve got Doc, Hogan, Phobos, and me to help--”

Before Meouch could finish his attempt at comfort, George pulled Meouch into a hug. His expression softened as he just clung onto the lion man like his life depended on it - well, it literally did in this situation. 

There was a bit of hesitation, but Meouch did wrap his arms around George to rub little circles in his back. It was quiet in the ship as the two hugged, save for Sung writing down more observations in the journal.

* * *

The check-ins took place every 24 hours. In the beginning, they all followed the same pattern: Sung would ask George how he was feeling, he’d say he’s feeling alright, the virus would try to take charge, and someone, usually Meouch, would end up holding George until he’d be calm enough to sit back down. Each time, observations would be recorded before, during, and after. Progress was usually shown by a slow decrease in the amount of time the virus took charge, and the process was definitely testing the boys’ patience. But they kept their routine.

Sung started a new page in the journal, and then wrote down some observations. “Okay, George. It’s check-in time. How do you feel?”

“I feel alright.”

Sung frowned, but wrote that down. It was the third week since George had been infected, so he had been secretly hoping there would be a new answer. 

“No, really, I feel… alright,” George repeated, which made Sung raise his eyebrows and look up at him.

“Yeah. We know. You’ve been sayin’ that everyday,” Meouch said. 

George shook his head. “You don’t get it. I actually… feel it. It’s not just empty words that I’m saying,” he explained. “I’m definitely not better yet. I’m still feeling like absolute shit. But that’s what I mean, I’m aware of it. My brain wasn’t processing that I’m infected when you met me.”

Red beams scanned George. “LEVEL OF INFECTION IS AT TWENTY-FIVE PERCENT.”

A smile crossed Sung’s face as he glanced back at the first page of the journal. “Guys, it’s working!” he said, practically bouncing in place. “The amount went down by eight percent! We’re doing it!”

“Wait, really?” Meouch asked. “I’m happy n’everything, but this seems kinda… too easy to be true.”  
As if on cue, George’s irises faded to a white, and that demonic smile was back. However, George seemed to be fighting it. “Fuck, again??”

“It’s trying to take back its control,” Sung said. He placed his hand on George’s shoulder. “Don’t let it.”

“What if I can’t?”

“You can,” Sung reassured. “You’ve got us to help you. You just need to keep your hope. That’s your best weapon.”

George let out a little whimper, but did his best to calm himself down. Then Phobos rested his hand on George’s shoulder, and so did Havve. 

“Hey,” Meouch said, looking into George’s eyes. “You can.”

“I…”

“You can!” Sung chimed in.

“I… I can…”

Phobos gave a thumbs up, and Havve’s eyes flickered a little. “YOU CAN.”

George squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them again, his irises were back to blue. They even looked just a little brighter than before. “...Okay. Okay! I can do this! I have hope!” He wasn’t sure if this cheesy moment was more of a reassurance to himself or if he really felt that way, but it was definitely helping.

* * *

The boys decided that the best way to end off this journey was by taking George along to a nearby planet, Ladyworld, where they were kicking off their tour at a beach venue. They figured that both the concert atmosphere and being outside of the ship in general would be really good for him. After the show, the crowd dispersed around the beach to hang out, and the boys met up with George.

“GEORGE WATSKY. THIRTY-TWO-YEAR-OLD MALE,” Havve said. “INFECTED WITH DESPERATIO APPROXIMATELY ONE MONTH AGO. LEVEL OF INFECTION IS AT… NINE PERCENT.”

George smiled. “You guys helped me so much,” he said. “All I need to do now is… find a place to stay.”

“Why don’t you stay here?” Sung suggested. “I think this would be a perfect planet for you.”

George looked around at everyone having a good time. Lots of energy and an all-around positive atmosphere. He could get used to this. “I… think I’ll stay here, then,” he said. He looked back at the boys. “But I kinda don’t wanna say goodbye.”

Meouch shrugged. “You’ll see us around,” he said. “We come here a lot.”

“There is one thing we should do before we go, though,” Sung said, and he put an arm over George’s shoulders. “It’s check-in time. How do you feel?”

George took a deep breath, and another look around him. “I know you guys couldn’t cure me, but you sure as hell helped me make a lot of progress. And every once in a while, I’ll get a little hopeless,” he said. “But you know what? Right now… I feel pretty good.”


End file.
